For Love Of A Wolf
by zorro x
Summary: Remus Lupin so hates being alone... Warning: Slash. HarryRemus.


**For Love Of A Wolf**  
  
A/N: This story was written in response to a reviewer who complained that I had no fluffy pieces. This story set out to be a romance between my two favorite characters- Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. I may have missed the mark a bit on _fluffy_, but I managed to put a light at the end of the tunnel, at any rate. Well, I think so, anyway.   
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Remus Lupin should have expected this.   
  
  
He doesn't know _how_ he should have known this would happen, except in the way that he has always known himself to be too weak to live up to what they wanted of him. It had come in various guises- when Sirius and James wanted his help on a prank, when Severus should have been stood up for- when Dumbledore asked him to stay on and teach Defense for Harry's fourth year. He should have known he'd never be able to live up to Sirius's last wishes for him.   
  
They aren't hard: _Take care of him, Moony.' _ He had, for a time, even thought he could manage it- taking his grief and rage and adding them to Harry's broken anger, their tears mingling as they clung together in a hope for ending their sorrow. Remus knew that Harry was cracked; was slowly crumbling. Melting, he sometimes thought, like that witch in that old muggle movie- unable to bear the stains of what was thrust on him. He half expected to hear Harry whimper that in his ear- I'm melting, I'm melting!' But his cub was ever too proud to ask for help.   
  
Now he recognizes the impossibility of what Sirius has demanded of him. _Take care of him, Moony....'_ He is quite, quite, certain that Sirius would kill him if he knew. And Lily and James.... But they are dead, and he is not, and it was never them forced to live alone, was it?   
  
He has fallen in love with Harry Potter.   
  
It happened on accident, he thinks- it was not something he planned, nor something the universe plotted. They are not _right_ for each other, in the way that Lily and James were, nor even a logical and happy couple like so many others. They do not work well together. And if anyone ever found out.... But Remus fell in love with his twisted man-cub, and there's very little he can do about it.   
  
He had to be coaxed in, of course- far be for him to ever make a first move, to ever be bold or stand up for anything at all. But Harry curled against him and cried, and when there weren't any tears he buried his young chin, scratchy and rough with the first growth of hair, into the curve of Remus's neck. He whispers to the man. Moony. Don't ever leave me.   
  
Remus rubs gentle circles on his young charges back and knows he couldn't leave the boy if he tried. He whispers reassurances into the curve of that perfect ear, beneath a mop of hair that smells of grass and musk and Harry. It is so easy to reach out his teeth and nibble oh-so-gently on the curve of that ear. So easy for his tongue to dart out from between rows of teeth still sore from his transformation and caress that flawless skin.   
  
Harry kisses like there won't be a tomorrow. He is all passion and tears, saying goodbye with every breath. His teeth clash against Remus's as his tongue battles for possession of the old wolf's mouth, his green eyes open and meeting the amber gaze of the wolf equally and with not fear so much as acceptance. Harry knows that this is his doom, and even as his every movement sings of life his eyes scream death. Every time Harry kisses him Remus knows it is goodbye.   
  
This isn't right, Remus mumbles sometimes into Harry's hair, damp with perspiration. They curl around each other in bed like wolves will, legs and arms a tangle of being that has no idea of separation. Harry, we shouldn't be doing this. I'm so sorry. He cries, sometimes, wrapped around his young lover like a security blanket. His tears are a meaningless babble of sorry and not-sorry, of control he prized so dearly ripped away so easily. Harry kisses him on the forehead and tells him not to fret, but Remus knows that every time Harry looks at him he is being destroyed.   
  
Remus loves Harry. He has always loved Harry, since he first set eyes on the tiny infant, since he'd met the fierce and talented thirteen year old who thought he knew the world. But he has fallen in love with Harry, and the farther he falls the faster he realizes that as soon as he lands he'll be crushed and cast aside. I love you, He tells Harry at least once a day. I love you so much.   
  
Harry told him once. You shouldn't. It's why Sirius died; why my parents died. It's why you're going to die.   
  
I'm already dead, cub. Remus told him. There's not a whole lot further I can sink. I'm dead and every second I'm alive it is only because of you and because I love you. Harry kissed him and ended the argument, but when he came that night it wasn't Remus's name on his lips but his darker and dead Godfather. Remus held him while he wept, the same name a curse on both their lips. _Sirius_.   
  
When the end of summer comes Remus let's Harry go, his hands lingering where they shouldn't, eyes memorizing every detail of the young and tired face. Nobody notices but Hermione, but she has learned discretion in her years at Hogwarts and so says nothing, turning away with a word of disapproval unvoiced on her lips.   
  
Remus kisses like the world ends tomorrow. He loves that boy like he'll never touch him again, watches him as though he is the only thing in the world worth seeing. He touches the boy as though there is no past of future, no obligations or even a world beyond what they know. He has grown used to accepting things in his long, long, years, but he cannot reconcile saying goodbye. His every movement is a sentence singing for attention, trying in vain to let the world know that it's over; he's lost; he's dead.   
  
When Harry comes back to Grimmauld Place, he does not look at old, worn out, Moony. His eyes are captivated by a brighter spirit, a girl at his school who he sighs after and writes letter after letter to. Ron teases him mercilessly about her, and Remus watches as his cub blushes red and denies it. Remus watches from a distance as Harry puts his life back together, picks up his broken pieces and marches on.   
  
He says goodbye to Harry that New Year, with no kisses or goodbyes or tears. He cups his cubs cheek- smooth shaven- in one clammy palm, and tells the boy that he's so proud of him.   
  
  
  
Remus Lupin is at the wedding for Harry James Potter, champion of the wizard world, and the lovely Blaise Zabini. He is not standing beside Harry- he was invited as a cursory detail, an after note. The werewolf stands alone at the edge of the crowd, weak from his transformation a few days previously, and claps at all the right spots. Harry has fallen in love, he thinks to himself.  
  
Then the old wolf sighs, shoves his hands into his pockets, and wanders off into a world that doesn't want him, and that he doesn't want. But he has grown skilled at accepting what he doesn't want to believe, and going on in a world without anything to anchor him down.  
  
  
And Harry, his cub, is happy. Maybe that's all that matters.   
  
  
Remus is whistling while he walks away, and only those who looked long and hard would see the tears pooling in his eyes. He slipped into the crowds of the Potter wedding, and lost himself in what might have been. 


End file.
